


Break(ing) Point.

by Anna_banana



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Brothers, Dubious Morality, Implied Sexual Content, Incest, M/M, One-Shot, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 04:11:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16926267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_banana/pseuds/Anna_banana
Summary: It's Sascha's 18th birthday. It begins conversations about things the two brother's have never dared to discuss before.





	Break(ing) Point.

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This fic contains discussions of possible incest between brothers. If you don't feel comfortable with that please don't read.  
> I am making no implication this has happened. This is entirely a short work of fiction.

They’re out for Alexander’s 18th birthday. Everyone else is still out dancing but Sascha and Mischa both sit in the booth catching their breath. Despite it being Sascha’s birthday he’s taking his time with his drinks all the while watching his brother slam back another shot with a touch of concern. Mischa might be older but Alexander knows from past experience that he’s a bit of a lightweight. Just as he finally decides to open his voice to speak and raise his concerns however Mischa starts talking over him. 

“Have you ever been fucked before?”

He asks suddenly and Alexander has to try his best not to choke on his drink. 

“I’ve had sex with plenty-,” and he’s cut off before he can continue. 

“That’s not what I’m asking baby brother,” Mischa starts with an almost sing-song tone and Sascha tries not to cringe at the term used. 

“I’m asking if you’ve ever been fucked, by a man,” the older finishes with a smirk.

“You know I haven’t” he hisses back looking around them, face flushed a dark red. Sascha looks away from his brother’s eyes and shifts in his seat. He glances around them again, the bass thumps loudly however and it’s unlikely someone could hear even if they were sat right next to them.

“Why not?” Mischa carries on, although he’s unable to fully block the other man in the booth, Mischa shifts so he’s bracketing his younger brother as close as possible, Sascha is now squashed right into the corner.

Alexander shrugs, not wanting to answer. Mischa can always tell when he’s lying yet he isn’t sure if he’s ready to have the confession tumbling out of his mouth.

“Why, have you?” He asks back. The answer is already well known to him. He’s never asked his brother about it before but if Mischa is going to start bringing things up then Sascha at least wants to sate his own curiosity. 

Mischa smirks at Alexander, glancing down at the younger’s lips and Sasha is pretty sure his brother knows exactly why he’s interested in the answer.

“It’s tennis Sascha, locker room stuff, I’d say you know how it is but,” Mischa pauses looking smug.

“Well anyway I’d recommend it, I mean you’ve always been a good receiver.”

One of the arms bracketing Alexander snakes down closer to his arse and he squirms around in response. Sascha feels conflicting impulses and he can’t decide whether to lean closer or pull away.

“What makes you think I’d be receiving?”

He asks boldly in return, placing a hand high on his brother’s thigh. Sascha makes sure to miss Mischa’s crotch, not quite ready to deal with the reality he would find.

“Look at you.”

Sascha can’t help but blush as his brother’s eyes trail down his body. They have always been open with one another, even naked, but this gaze feels far more heated than ever before. 

“You’d be taking it.”

Mischa pulls away suddenly, for once letting his younger brother call shots. Sascha feels the absence of the heat immediately and strains to move in closer once again. He decides to lean in close, their noses are almost brushing and they each have a thigh pressed tight together. 

“Prove it when you’re sober,” Sascha says before pulling away from his brother entirely and heading back into the swarm of the club. Sascha decides to get himself a drink before daring to venture back into the pulsing crowd. He’ll need it after that conversation.

When Sascha leaves the booth, Mischa’s head tilts backwards with a thump. He sighs out loud before adjusting himself uncomfortably in his seat. He stays put, unsure what to do with himself and even more unsure of what exactly he has just started. After a few minutes of conflict, Mischa gets himself a drink of water before calling a cab and heading back home. 

That night, Mischa comes strongly with one hand around his member and three fingers of the other up his ass. Sascha doesn’t go home alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies the title is a dreadful tennis word play :)  
> Kudos and comments with any constructive or positve feedback are more than welcome.


End file.
